


Gone But Not Forgotten

by im95notdead



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Denial, M/M, Sad, deceivingly fluffy, it’s got that awesome 2012 avengers living in the tower vibe tho so there’s that
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-30
Updated: 2019-06-30
Packaged: 2020-05-31 01:39:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,256
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19415827
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/im95notdead/pseuds/im95notdead
Summary: Steve and Tony are happy together. Or so Tony thinks.





	Gone But Not Forgotten

**Song: “Goodbye - Cage The Elephant”**

“Yeah, but this one’s going to be bigger and better than ever.” He tapped away on his holo-keyboard and then laughed. “Yeah, you’re right, the Bleeding Edge suit is pretty damn great but this one is built with you in mind, honey,” Tony told Steve who was sitting on the opposite side of his workshop sketching and asking Tony questions. 

Tony turned to him and saw that familiar look. “It’s not  _ for _ you. I know you’ve never wanted a suit. The little pseudo reactor here—” he tapped the glowing device “—will have enough nanites to form two suits. Something happens to you and I need to catch and protect, you get all wrapped up snug as a bug in a rug, see?” 

Tony would not be letting anything bad happen to Steve. None of his team, his family, but especially not Steve. He wasn’t sure what he’d do if he lost him. 

Steve smiled and said it was incredibly thoughtful and ingenious. 

“Of course, aren’t I the one making it?” They laughed and Tony continued working and Steve sketching.

+

“Come on, honey, just one goodnight kiss and a smile is all I ask,” Tony said, laying on his side and poking Steve’s back. “Come on, just one smile. Half a smile? Show me a tooth, Steve.” 

Steve turned, his face not angry, worried. He was worried about Tony. Tony who had recklessly turned his back on enemies and taken fire. Tony who had taken a hard hit and then more damage when he was down. Until Thor had come and knocked them on their asses. 

“Steve—I know. I need to be more careful,” he said, changing his thought when Steve opened his mouth and looked like he was about to cry, not yell. “I’m sorry.” 

Steve still didn’t say anything. “Steve, baby, come on. You know we don’t go to bed angry. That’s our one rule. If I don’t get a smile from you, we are staying up all night.” 

Steve still didn’t respond, just stared at Tony. He kept doing this. He kept putting himself in harm’s way and not taking seriously how close he came to death each time. 

Tony reached out and cupped Steve’s cheek. “I promise I will do any and all drills or sims that big strategic brain of yours can think of.” 

Steve stared into his eyes asking him to promise. 

“I promise.” 

Steve smiled. 

“There it is. What a sight. Alright, get some sleep. You’ve got a big day ahead of you of making me do stuff I hate.” 

They curled up together and soon drifted off to sleep. 

  
  


“Okay, but wait. I’ve got a good one. How much space does fungi need to grow?” Tony asked, back in his workshop with Steve who was lounging on the couch eating grapes. “Come on, old man, not even gonna guess? They had puns in the 40s, right?” 

Steve snorted, about to answer, at the same time that Clint walked in and started talking. 

“Tony, can you help Nat and I with—“

“First of all, rude, Barton, I was having a conversation. Secondly, no, mainly because of the first point.” 

Clint stopped, looking around and then right at Steve. “An important conversation?” 

“Well… I was telling a pun but Steve was just about to guess it.”

“Steve was?” 

“Yeah.”

“Steve? Steve Rogers?” 

“Yes, Clint, what’s—do I need to repair your hearing aids while you’re down here?” Clint scratched his head, looking between Steve and Tony. 

“Nah, you know what? My bad, shouldn’t have interrupted, man. I’ll ask Banner. Catch you guys later.” 

“Arrivederci, bird brain,” he told him, turning to Steve. “He’s so weird sometimes. Anyway, thought of the answer yet?” 

Steve tapped his chin, thinking and then guessed. 

“Seriously that’s your—did you even try? Mushroom. Fungi needs as  _ mushroom _ as it can get. Honestly, Steve, my humor is seventy-percent of my appeal, what is it about me you like again?” 

Steve laughed and began listing all his favorite things about Tony while the man in question grinned and went about his work, enjoying the shower of affection. 

  
  


When Tony woke up and threw his arm out, it landed on cold, Steve-less sheets. He cracked open his eyes and frowned. He must be out on his run still or he’d stayed in the common room with those ruffians he let stay rent free. 

He got in the elevator half-dressed in his sleep pants, no shirt and a robe, carrying an empty coffee cup he’d brought up some other night of the week. 

The doors opened up onto the communal floor and Tony cursed how bright it was, shielding his eyes with his sleeve. 

He headed for the sink first to put the mug in there and then grabbed a fresh one from the cabinet. He poured himself a piping hot cup of coffee and took a sip as it was, barely even registering the burn at this point in his life. 

“Morning, freeload—“ he stopped, catching sight of the breakfast table. It was only set for five. “What, not expecting me to show this morning?”

“No, your place is right there,” Natasha said. 

He sat, confused. “Then whose…” he waited, watching Thor come in and sit, and then Banner, finally Clint. Steve was really late for his run—wait. 

“Why isn’t there a seat for Steve?” 

“Tony—“ 

“No, Romanoff, why isn’t there one set for him?” He stood, going to grab another placemat and set of cutlery but Natasha met him halfway and grabbed him by his wrists, her grip unbreakable. Tony struggled until she let him go but blocked his path. “What the fuck is going on?” 

“Tony,” Clint began but Natasha shook her head. She needed to do this. Tony would know without a doubt in his mind that she was telling the truth. 

“Tony, Steve is gone.” 

“I know, he’s out on his run, but that doesn’t explain why you would just leave him out of breakfast like—” 

“No, he’s gone.“ she interrupted but he kept talking. 

“—that and I can’t believe you’d have the audacity to do this in  _ my _ house and—“

“TONY!” Natasha barked. He froze. “I think you need to come sit down for this.” 

“No, thanks, I prefer my bad news standing.” 

“Tony… please.” Natasha didn’t beg. He sat. 

“Tony, Steve is gone.” 

“On a run.” 

“No, Tony.” She took his hand in between both of hers. “He’s  _ gone _ . Forever. He’s  _ dead _ .” 

“He—when was—what happened?” He was hyperventilating. “ _Where_ _was_ _I_?”

“Tony… it was in battle.” 

“The funeral… the bod— _ Steve _ . We—”

“Oh, Tony,” she said, tears in her eyes. The episodes came and went, always varying in severity and duration. “It’s been two years.” 

Tony looked over at the couch where Steve was sitting. “B-b-but he's right—he’s...” Tony cut himself off as the Steve on the couch faded, a devastatingly sad smile on his beautiful face. 

“Jarvis,” he half-yelled, panicked. “Playback footage of the workshop last night.” Jarvis showed the footage. Tony in the workshop talking to… himself. “Jarvis…,” Tony said, tears in his eyes and his voice cracking. “Show me my bedroom two nights ago.” Tony watched himself reach out and stroke the cheek of no one, smile at no one, cuddle up to no one. “Oh my god,” he said, his hands coming up to his face and he sobbed while the others comforted him once again. “He’s gone,” he finally said, everything coming back to him all at once. 

**Author's Note:**

> if only of you know of a stony artwork where Tony is holding Steve and slowly he begins to fade away until Tony realizes Steve is gone, lmk because that’s what this was based on and I lost that work and haven’t been able to find it since. :( thank you! x


End file.
